Date: Sun, 7 Jan 2001 01:15:13 -0800 (PST)
From: curiousone
Subject: Billi Gets Himself a Real Man
Billi Gets Himself a Real Man
by Verna Benson
My name is Billi LaChance and this is my story. I'm a gay 36 year old man
with a few flourishes. When I say, I'm gay, I'M GAY is what I mean. I have
a severely feminine lisp. I'm limp wristed. I wear a diamond in my nose, on
my fingers and in my ears, along with several hoops. I get my nails done at
a salon and wear them an inch long and often polished. I favor leather
trousers and boots, which I always wear. I tend to wear silk, long sleeved
blouses. I wear a closely-cropped goatee and have a shaved head. All of my
underwear is silk (Hane's Her Way) and I sleep in nothing but my collection
of silk short sleeved tops and matching shorts from Lane Bryant. I carried
a very big black leather purse which carries my beloved cigarettes, More
Menthol 120s.
I often stop at a convience store late to buy my cigarettes and am waited
on by a short, stocky man about 20 years older than me. He is quite
muscular and wears his hair buzzed severely, like he has a military
background. When others are in the store, he is short with me and rolls his
eyes at others like, "Oh, the queer wants his faggot cigarettes!" When it's
only him and me in the store, he's downright courteous and engages me in
talk.
I called him on it one night when it was just us in the store and was
surprised when he opened up to me. Seems in the military years ago, a
freind of his had come out to him and then revealed that he was in love
with him. Instead of socking the guy, he was touched and over the next few
weeks they'd actually kissed and petted and he had worked himself up to
actually fuck his gay friend.
Then one day, some other buddies come to him and say they've found love
letters in the gay man's foot locker and that he's got to be "taken care
of". So he helped his friends beat the man to within an inch of his life,
scared all the time that the man would spill the beans about their
encounters. But he never said a word. The man was discharged and was never
heard from again.
I felt somewhat bonded to the man and introduced myself formally. "Frank,"
he said, "Frank Jones."
As I lit one of my Mores, he stubbed out his Marlboro. I decided to ask
something..."Do you ever...," I started, "Wonder what you missed?" I placed
my hand on his. His eyes darted up at me, then relaxed. "Hell, yeah, sure."
he said. That was all I needed to hear! I grabbed my red Cross pen and
jotted my address on a scrap of paper. I pushed it toward him on the
counter. "When you get off?" I said. He said, "A few hours."
I waltzed to the door, turned, took an exagerated drag on my More and said,
"See you later...," blowing a plume of smoke.
I sailed home and into a bath of warm water, bubbles and Jean Nate. I was
positively glowing! Around 7:00am, he knocked on the door and stepped
inside. When he saw me in my silky nighties, he got a small grin on his
face. "Mind if I shower? I'm all sweaty after work. he said. I undid a few
buttons on his shirt and licked his chest. "Oh you're gonna be sweaty
alright," I said, dripping with lust, "But go ahead. He grabbed me strongly
and planted a deep, hard kiss on me. "Be right with you." he said, letting
me go and heading to the shower.
He walked into my bedroom, stark naked and glistening with moisture. I
moaned my approval and he came over and embraced me. Kissing me with a
passion I've never experienced in my life. All of a sudden, he turned me
over, pulled down my shorts and panties.
This is it, I thought. Nearly 40 years of pent up frustration, wonder and
testosterone were about to be unleashed in my ass and I quivered with
anticipation! When he touch my asshole with his knob, I shook. When he
entered me, I wailed. When he began thrusting me, I was convulsing. I was
being engourged and split apart. I was speaking in tongues and purring and
moaning. He'd pump out and then thrust in and I'd squeal with pain and
delight. When he finally exploded after 15 minutes, World War III broke out
in my anus. I could feel his cum dripping from my ass and I was totally
weak and helpless. I couldn't move and shots of pain from my assfucking
would shot through by butt and I'd tingle with sheer ecstacy!
I finally rolled over and bleary-eyed and drunk from his love, noticed his
long, thick pole was glistening with sweat and cum. Panting with desire, I
motioned him over to me. On his knees, he climbed over me until his
stiffness was hanging over my eager mouth. I grabbed with what little
strength I had left, pulling his cock to my mouth and began sucking. After
a few minutes of me sucking, he took control and began to eagerly fuck my
face. As he pumped my mouth, I floated on a cloud. This is where I was born
to be and with this man. When he shot this time, it was all over my face
and I greedily began scraping it off with my fingers and licking them
clean. After a few minutes, I collapsed in his strong arms.
When he woke up at noon, I was in the kitchen making him lunch. I was still
wearing my silk short, along with my Powerpuff Girls bedroom slippers and I
was wearing the long, long sleeved dress shirt he walked into my house in
this morning. When I'd woke up an hour ago, I started dressing and saw the
shirt on the bathroom floor. I picked it up and smelled it and it was all
sweat and cheap colonge and 100% MAN! I'd been wearing it and dancing in
his smell.
When he walked into the kitchen stark naked, I immediately ran to him and
he lifted me in his strong arms, planting a kiss on me that lingered and
lingered. He put me down and I fell to my knees and grabbed his long dick
and began sucking the knob. He strang to attention and grabbed the back of
my head and started to face fuck me slowly. After about 5 minutes and
swallowing his ramrod he shot a load down my throat. As I was licking his
dick clean, he looked around and said, "Do I smell coffee?"
We chatted. He was unhappily married, 36 years, to what he called a
"battleaxe". Worked for 33 years at a local plant that closed, hence the
convience store job.
He started coming to my house every few days, then daily and finally he
left his wife and filed for divorce and moved in with me.
We got married a year ago. I'm now Mrs. Frank Jones and I love it!